My imaginary friend situation never went further than me having full-on conversations with myself, in the apparent safety of my house, away from judgmental eyes. She never took my wheel. She never appeared again for me to put a face to the conversations. As far as I am concerned, I am just talking to myself – it’s an old habit from childhood.
Preview: Chapter 5
I remember sharing the story about 2008 with the person I eventually chose to have two children with. I was believed at first. Then disbelieved, later. I remember trying to describe a lookalike of the Queen, used after this broadcast with John Legend, holding onto the stories – I had shared with “Third-Party” – within a plate representing some form of respect and value for my identity, existence, and personal words. She was trying to make sense of their beef with me?
Whatever the answer may be, the same mum is watching, with concern, the allegations of Prince Andrew’s paedophilia! Is he the mastermind behind the term “Third-Party”? How can their intentions be righteous or innocent with all these finances lining up toward my children’s unconcerned dad? A man deprived of love and attention long enough and so eager to be successful, in defiance of his humble upbringing, will not ask too many questions when having all the money thrown his way solely on the merit of “his good looks” (his favourite description of himself). In his desert, any drop of water (even from an old enough one) is bound to be the most amazing thing that could ever happen to him.
By then, my landlord’s neighbours were watching the scenes, flabbergasted. I would have been speechless too if I were in their shoes. I felt like my freewill had been taken away from me. I did not have time to feel this way for too long because, suddenly, spectrums of colours started dancing above one car. A noticeably big and dark dot, from the sky, grabbed my focus. Both situations, from above and from below, started engaging in a conversation with me, with the clear intent to disengage me from what was being done to me, at the window. I learned that each person had an aura: orange, purple or black (they are the ones I remember, at least). Their auras were following them everywhere they went, announcing good or bad events to come in the immediate future. Black was a short line, representing their lifespan. Purple indicated, to me, who was linked to “Third-Party” and part of their “game” against me. Orange meant something positive. I do not remember anything else. But for a short while, I was seeing everyone’s aura. I no longer do. And I do not have the desire to see it ever again. The stress I was feeling around that time, for months, every time I saw the black cloud dancing behind people… Psychics happily deliver vague predictions to their trusting clients, but I do not do approximate information. Are these people temporarily sick or about to die? I did not even know. But I knew and saw something following closely behind them.
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BY: Sylvaine FRANCIS
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